


our normal

by panda_parade



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Insecure Oikawa Tooru, Kind of ???, M/M, Protective Iwaizumi Hajime, That's it, Underage Drinking, it's j bc of a misunderstanding tho, iwa chan punches a guy, matsuhana want to start a new business, matsuhana would pay to get beat up by iwa chan, minimal angst, oikawa overreacts, oikawa shit talks, that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:34:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26187277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panda_parade/pseuds/panda_parade
Summary: Oikawa doesn’t get it. He’s known Iwaizumi the longest, is closest to him out of anyone else in the club, so shouldn’t he be the one Iwaizumi’s spending time with? Soaking up all their last moments together before the opportunities slip away?or,oikawa tooru just needs some love (´༎ຶ ͜ʖ ༎ຶ `)♡
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro & Matsukawa Issei, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 20
Kudos: 264
Collections: kagsivity's fic archive





	our normal

**Author's Note:**

> \- i got this idea from a tik tok  
> \- i'd like to thank my dear friend tori for beta reading this mess and for the motivational comments  
> \- gonna go cry in single but not wanting to date a non-anime character hahahaha ahem anyways

Oikawa isn’t sure what it is. Maybe the fact that he never got to achieve his long-term goal of beating stupid Shiratorizawa and stupid Ushiwaka with his stupid arm strength. Maybe the looming threat of graduation, hanging heavy like a stormy end to an otherwise sunny year. Maybe it’s the knowledge that soon he’ll be separated from his childhood best friend. Maybe it’s his relatively recent realization that he wants more than just friendship from said childhood best friend. But there’s something sour curling in his stomach, the heady buzz and warmth achieved from the few drinks he’d had turning into something less pleasant and more suffocating. 

It doesn’t help that Iwaizumi is currently nowhere in sight. They’re at one of their last high school parties, and he’s probably off socializing with one of their teammates, the VBC members scattered throughout the much-too crowded house. Probably saying premature goodbyes or something. 

Oikawa doesn’t get it. He’s known Iwaizumi the longest, is closest to him out of anyone else in the club, so shouldn’t he be the one Iwaizumi’s spending time with? Soaking up all their last moments together before the opportunities slip away? 

The house is relatively dark, the bodies he’s fighting through to get to the drinks counter more silhouettes than anything. Parties are supposed to be his thing. He wishes he could let loose and crack jokes and tease his friends and let alcohol and his team and Iwaizumi help him forget. Forget graduation and Ushiwaka and Tobio-chan but. But all he has are cheap drinks and sluggish limbs and a painfully heavy heart. 

He runs into Yahaba in the kitchen. His words meld together ever so slightly when he asks, “Where’s Iwa-chan?” 

Yahaba glances at him. “Are you drunk?”

Oikawa huffs. “No.” 

“I think you’re drunk.”

“I am pleasantly tipsy,” Oikawa corrects. 

“Right. Well, last I saw Iwaizumi-san was with Hanamaki-san and Matsukawa-san. Out back, I think.”

Oikawa frowns. “Without me?” 

Yahaba opens his mouth to answer, but then Watari is appearing out of the throngs of people and tugging at the sleeve of Yahaba’s shirt and then the both of them are disappearing, Yahaba flashing an apologetic look as he goes. 

Oikawa’s frowning as he shoulders his way to the back door, a now-refilled cup in his hand. Sure enough, there’re his friends. Laughing about something. Without him. He feels sick. Chugs his drink. Staggers back to the kitchen to get another one. 

What’s the point of dreading saying goodbye at graduation when his friends don’t even want his company? When _Iwa-chan_ doesn’t want his company?

He’s halfway through his fourth refill before his cup is snatched away. “Hey! What’s your prob– Iwa-chan?” 

“How much have you had?” Iwaizumi demands, eyes flitting from Oikawa’s half-empty cup to the counter which is supporting nearly all of his weight. 

“Oh, _now_ you care,” Oikawa slurs, making a weak grab for his drink. Iwaizumi just holds it out of his reach. 

“What? What’s that mean?”

Oikawa sighs. “You tell me, Iwa-chan.” 

Iwaizumi’s scowling at him. “You’re not making any sense.” 

Oikawa just rolls his eyes. He turns around and grabs a new can of beer, getting through a quarter of it before that too is taken away from him. 

“Oi, stop drinking. You’re going to end up doing something dumb and then you’ll get sick and I’ll be stuck taking care of your drunk ass.” 

Oikawa pouts and huffs and petulantly stomps his foot but the drinks seem to have washed away all his coordination because he tips forward, crashing against Iwaizumi’s chest. Iwaizumi grunts in surprise but Oikawa’s already pushing off, already moving away. He _is_ still mad. And hurt. And drunk. Very, _very_ drunk. 

“If it’s so much of a hassle, why bother? Seems to me that you, Makki and Mattsun have already moved on anyways. Bet you can’t wait for graduation.”

Iwaizumi blinks. “What.” 

His grip has slackened on Oikawa’s drinks. Oikawa doesn’t miss the chance to reclaim them. 

“Yeah, bet you can’t _wait_ to get rid of me.” Oikawa throws back his cup, belatedly realizing that he may be overreacting. Just a tad. 

“What? Oikawa what the hell are you on?” 

No. Fuck this. “I have to go to the bathroom,” Oikawa mumbles, dropping his now-empty cup on the counter behind him and handing his relatively full beer to Iwaizumi. 

Iwaizumi sighs. Holds out a hand. Presumably to help Oikawa. “Alright, c’mon. We’re not done talking about this, though.”

“No, I’m going by myself,” Oikawa says, pushing off of the counter and stumbling immediately. 

“Like hell you are. You can’t even stand.” 

“I’m going by myself,” Oikawa insists. 

“Oikawa–”

“Iwa-chan, I’m _mad_ at you, ok?” Oops. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Alcohol always does weird shit to his brain-to-mouth filter. 

Iwaizumi pauses. “What? Why?”

“I don’t wanna be near you if you don’t wanna be near me,” Oikawa says instead of answering. 

“What–” 

“I’m going to the bathroom. Alone.” 

Iwaizumi just stares, dumbfounded. He doesn’t protest when Oikawa walks (read: stumbles) past him. Oikawa almost wishes he had. 

凸( •̀_•́ )凸凸( •̀_•́ )凸凸( •̀_•́ )凸凸( •̀_•́ )凸

“How’d it go?” Matsukawa asks as soon as Iwaizumi steps back onto the porch. 

“Uh-”

Hanamaki groans. “Please tell me you didn’t chicken out. We just spent the past, like, 20 minutes convincing you that homeboy likes you just as much as you like him, if not more.”

“Well–”

Hanamaki groans again. 

“Shut up. I _was_ going to confess, but Oikawa was totally shitfaced.”

Matsukawa raises an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, he was going on about how we wanted to get rid of him? He seemed serious and everything.” 

Hanamaki frowns. “Where’s he now?” 

“Bathroom.” 

“You didn’t go with him?”

Iwaizumi sighs. Runs a hand through his hair. “I wanted to, but he said, and I quote, he didn’t wanna be near me if I didn’t wanna be near him.”

Matsukawa’s other eyebrow joins the first. “Why would he think that?” 

“God if I know. I don’t know what’s got him so upset. Maybe I should headbutt him or something. Knock some sense into him, y’know?”

Hanamaki nods sagely. “Do it. If it doesn’t work, at least we’ll get a laugh out of it.” 

“Makki is a sadist, confirmed,” Matsukawa says. 

Hanamaki side eyes him, flashing a devious grin. “But you already knew that.” 

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. “Kindly refrain from being kinky in front of me.” 

“That’s what she said,” they say simultaneously. Look at each other with lazy smiles. High-five. 

Iwaizumi sighs. Sometimes. Sometimes he really wonders what dumbass life choices led him to situations such as these. 

“Speaking of beating Oikawa up, how do you feel about investing in a slapping Oikawa booth? Kind of like a kissing booth, but instead of kissing Oikawa, you slap him. I feel like we would make some great profits off of that,” Matsukawa says, staring at Iwaizumi with his default bored expression. 

Iwaizumi blinks. Feels a headache coming on, the type exclusively caused by being exposed to high levels of dumbassery. “Maybe you’re the shitfaced one.”

Hanamaki sighs dramatically. “Told you he wouldn’t go for it. Iwa-chan over here would throttle anyone who dared to hurt his darling Shittykawa.” 

“Ok, but like, I would pay to get beaten up by Iwaizumi,” Matsukawa stage-whispers to Hanamaki. “You’ve seen those arms.” 

Hanamaki nods with a contemplative hum. “Maybe we should set up two booths then. You pay to slap Oikawa, then to get beaten up by Iwaizumi.”

Matsukawa pats Hanamaki’s back. “Foolproof plan, my guy. We’re about to make those big bucks.”

Iwaizumi’s rubbing his temples, focusing all his energy on not decking the both of them. “You guys. Just. Please shut the fuck up.” 

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Hanamaki coos. 

Matsukawa’s about to say something, when suddenly the door flies open and a nervous-looking Kindaichi bursts through. “Uh, Iwaizumi-san…”

“Everything ok?” 

Kindaichi shakes his head. “It’s Oikawa-san.”

Iwaizumi’s immediately going to the door, not having to look to know that Hanamaki and Matsukawa are following him. “What? Is he alright?”

“Well, uh... you should see for yourself.” 

Kindaichi leads them through the surprisingly empty kitchen and into the living room, where it seems that all the party guests have congregated, trying to peer over one another like eager spectators. Iwaizumi bodily shoves his way to the center of the circle, Kindaichi, Hanamaki and Matsukawa following in his wake. 

There, with his hands clenching some guy’s shirt, is Oikawa. He looks a mess: hair disheveled, face flushed, long limbs fighting to keep from collapsing onto the ground. 

“–why nobody fucking loves you! You’re a failed abortion.” 

Iwaizumi’s mouth drops open. If Oikawa notices the new arrivals, he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t even give Iwaizumi the chance to get over his surprise before he’s barreling on. 

“You’re a pathetic loser who has nothing better to do with your life than talk shit about others,” he slurs.

The guy forcefully shoves Oikawa away, who stumbles slightly. “Why’re you getting so worked up?” he snaps. “You’re the one who said they didn’t care about you. I could break that pretty nose of yours and you know what would happen? Nothing. Because they _wouldn’t care_.” 

That snaps Iwaizumi out of his surprise. He glares, cracks his knuckles, is about to go drag Oikawa off but he’s already talking again. 

“Are you fucking threatening me?” Oikawa demands, rolling up the sleeves of his sports jacket. “I’m gonna make you regret that. Speaking of regrets, tell your mom I’m sorry about the broken condom. It cursed her with you, after all.” 

“Say that one more time, I dare you.” 

“Oh, and your sister? Suzuki-chan, was it? Tell her Tooru says hi. She’ll know that name. She’s familiar with screaming it–”

 _Crack._

It happens in slow motion, almost. The guy’s fist flying forward, Oikawa’s head snapping back, the rest of his body following as he crumples to the ground. Iwaizumi’s not sure if everyone’s suddenly fallen silent, holding their breaths, or if Iwaizumi’s body has just muffled all sound, putting a pause on everything as all his senses hone into the heaving back of the still-standing guy. 

Sound’s muted, but he hears Matsukawa’s quiet “oh shit.” Registers the tentative hand Hanamaki places on his shoulder, probably to placate him. He registers it. But he doesn’t acknowledge it. Because he’s still focused on that guy.

The guy who hurt Tooru. 

The rage hits him all at once, dousing him like a tidal wave. He steps forward, knocks on the guy’s shoulder. He turns around and Iwaizumi vaguely recognizes him as that dick from his calculus class before his fist is flying. It connects with a satisfying crunch, the guy’s nose cracking to the side under Iwaizumi’s knuckles. Iwaizumi follows him down, pressing a knee into his stomach and watching the guy twitch under him. He grabs his shirt, jerks him up, smiles without humor when he says, “Touch Tooru again and it won’t just be your nose I’m breaking, got it?” 

The guy sneers. “He fucking deserved it.” 

Which, alright, might hold some semblance of truth but it just serves to make Iwaizumi angrier. So Iwaizumi slams him back against the floor, breath rushing out of him.

“ _Nobody_ is allowed to hurt Tooru,” he says, then punches him again, just to be sure that it got through. 

Then he stands up, noise slowly starting to filter in through the ringing in his ears. He can hear cheers and hollers and shouts but he ignores it all in favor of getting to Oikawa, shoving the guy aside with his foot in the process. 

Iwaizumi slips a hand under his shoulder, another under his knees, and lifts him up bridal style. Oikawa’s head tilts to the side slightly.

“Iwa-chan…?” he asks slowly, and Iwaizumi realizes that he’s not unconscious. Just dazed. Well, that makes him feel better. 

Not by much though because, “You have some explaining to do.” 

Oikawa sniffs, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “Iwa-chan, I–”

“It can wait ‘till morning.” Iwaizumi sighs, turning to Matsukawa and Hanamaki, who’re watching him with matching expressions of pride. Matsukawa has his phone out, presumably recording. 

“Y’know, our booth idea might just work,” Hanamaki says, barely loud enough for Iwaizumi to make out the words. 

But he hears. And rolls his eyes. And jerks his head in the direction of the front door. “C’mon, let’s go.” 

“Aye, aye captain.” 

凸( •̀_•́ )凸凸( •̀_•́ )凸凸( •̀_•́ )凸凸( •̀_•́ )凸

As soon as Oikawa wakes up, he wants to fall right back asleep. His head is absolutely _pounding_. The headache’s so strong he genuinely worries if it’ll kill him. His surroundings come into focus piece by piece as he slowly opens his eyes. He’s greeted with a ceiling devoid of any glow-in-the dark stars, no Godzilla posters on the far wall, and he wonders where in the hell he is because he’s clearly not at either his or Iwaizumi’s house. 

His left cheek hurts like a motherfucker and holy _shit_ he should’ve finished the job and drank himself to death because surely that would be preferable to how utterly shitty he’s currently feeling. 

He sits up slowly, realizing that the sports jacket he’s wearing is not his, too big at the arms and smelling strongly of Iwaizumi’s body wash. His jeans from last night have been swapped out for some sweatpants and Oikawa has absolutely no idea who they belong to. But then he looks up and sees the handmade “keep calm and eat some cream puffs” poster and immediately identifies them to be Hanamaki’s. 

The bedside table next to him holds a glass of water and an Advil, which Oikawa downs greedily, throat annoyingly dry. 

Voices are coming from downstairs, and when he opens Hanamaki’s bedroom door, the smell of eggs is there too. His stomach growls in interest. 

Iwaizumi’s setting down a plate of sausages when Oikawa enters the dining room, yawning and rubbing at his eyes. 

“Ah, our trash-talking Sleepy Beauty awakens,” Hanamaki coos. 

Oikawa’s about to snap a response, when his eyes land on Iwaizumi’s hand. Iwaizumi’s _bandaged_ hand. He yelps, making the other three flinch. 

“Iwa-chan! What the heck happened to your hand?” Oikawa runs over, cradling Iwaizumi’s hand in his and gently swiping his thumb over the bandaged knuckles. 

Matsukawa snorts. “You don’t remember?”

“...no?” 

“He was pretty out of it by then. Makes sense that he doesn’t. Remember, that is,” Hanamaki says, helping himself to two sausages. 

Oikawa opens his mouth to ask what they’re going on about when he gets whacked in the back of the head. He squeaks, jumping away. His somewhat-dulled headache returns full-force. “What the heck Iwa-chan? What was that for?” 

Iwaizumi’s glaring at him. “What do you remember from last night?”

Oikawa huffs, rubbing at the back of his head. “Um… I remember alcohol. Lots and lots and lots of it.” 

He also remembers feeling sad. Abandoned. Unwanted. But he doesn’t say that. 

But of course Iwaizumi knows he’s holding something back, and he’s not having it. “Why’d you drink so much? You rarely drink anyways, so why’d you get so fucked?” 

Oikawa sighs, faking exasperation. “I dunno Iwa-chan! Maybe I finally felt like letting loose.” 

Iwaizumi clicks his tongue. “You better stop fucking lying to me. Why’d you think we wanted to get rid of you?” 

Oikawa huffs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He does. But he doesn’t want to admit it. 

There’s a pause, and Oikawa’s about 95% sure that Iwaizumi knows he’s bullshitting when Hanamaki nudges Matsukawa. 

“Hey, Mattsun. Show him the video. Maybe that’ll help him remember.”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. “Don’t–”

But Oikawa’s already sliding into the seat next to Matsukawa, already peering over his shoulder at his phone.

The video starts with Oikawa rolling up the sleeves of his sports jacket. “ _“I’m gonna make you regret that. Speaking of regrets, tell your mom I’m sorry about the broken condom. It cursed her with you, after all,_ ” his video-self says. 

Oikawa opens his mouth. Closes it. Hears himself diss the other guy’s sister before getting clocked in the face. He flinches at the impact, his throbbing cheek making a lot more sense now. 

Flashes of why the fight started in the first place come back to him and he feels himself flush, getting angry all over again. 

“ _Oh shit,_ ” he hears video-Matsukawa say, and then Iwaizumi’s stepping forward, his back to the camera. 

He watches Iwaizumi tap the guy, and gasps in surprise when all of a sudden Iwaizumi’s fist is meeting his face. Oikawa flinches in sympathy. Damn, that shit looks like it _hurt_. 

And then he’s listening to Iwaizumi growl, “ _Touch Tooru again and it won’t just be your nose I’m breaking, got it?_ ” and “Nobody _is allowed to hurt Tooru._ ” The angry heat that had been flooding him turns into something warm, pleasant. He turns wide eyes to Iwaizumi, who’s glaring at the scrambled eggs as if they personally offended him. 

Oikawa really, _really_ wants to kiss him. 

He clears his throat. “The reason that fight started was because he dissed you guys. I was upset, and he found me… he found me crying in the bathroom.”

Iwaizumi exhales slowly, eyes flitting up to meet Oikawa’s gaze. Matsukawa places a comforting arm over his shoulder. 

“He asked me what was wrong and. And I told him my friends didn’t want me anymore.” Oikawa’s looking away now. 

“Why the hell would you think that, you absolute fucking dumbass?” Iwaizumi snaps. He sounds a little hurt. 

“I dunno. I just, I felt sad and I’d had a little too much to drink and then I saw the three of you just chilling without me and it got me even more upset and–”

“Oikawa,” Hanamaki interrupts, voice gentle. 

Oikawa sighs. “Anyways, so that guy was like ‘I can help you forget all about them’ and I was like ‘well alcohol isn’t helping so maybe you will’ so then we were dancing but then he started spouting dumb shit about how Makki and Mattsun were dumbasses that weren’t going anywhere in life and how Iwa-chan had anger issues and how you guys didn’t deserve me and it just made me. So _mad_. And that wasn’t even the worst of it; he said so much shit about you guys. So that’s how that started. I’m sorry.”

Iwaizumi huffs. “I swear to god I’m point two seconds from stepping on you.” 

Hanamaki snorts. “Daddy-chan making a comeback.”

Matsukawa stifles a laugh, the arm still around Oikawa tilting slightly so that his palm is exposed and Hanamaki can high-five it. 

Iwaizumi ignores them. “The reason Makki, Mattsun and I were outside without you was because they were helping me with something.”

Oikawa pouts. “You didn’t want my help?”

“...they were helping me figure out how to confess to you.” 

Oikawa nearly does a double take because did he… did he hear that right? Please tell him he heard that right. He slowly drags his gaze from the tiled floor to meet Iwaizumi’s eyes, which are staring right back at him. 

Oikawa doesn’t break eye contact when he whispers, “Mattsun?”

“Hm?”

“Pinch me.” He’s still whispering, as if speaking any louder will suddenly make Iwaizumi take back his confession. 

Iwaizumi blinks at him. When there's a sharp pain on his arm Oikawa lets himself believe that no, he isn’t dreaming and no, his supposedly unrequited love isn’t so unrequited. 

He slips out from underneath Matsukawa’s arm and launches himself at Iwaizumi, who grunts a little in surprise but still catches him, arms winding around his waist. Oikawa doesn’t even care that Matsukawa and Hanamaki are still there. He presses his palms on either side of Iwaizumi’s face and stares at him. Just takes a moment to appreciate the hazel eyes, the slope of his nose, the faint dimple that only appears on the left side of his smile. 

A smile Oikawa very much wants to kiss. He grins. “You like me~” he teases. 

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. “I’d like you more if you couldn’t talk.”

“Then maybe you should shut me up.” 

Lips are against his then, a gentle pressure that seems so new but so familiar at the same time. And of course it feels familiar. Because this is Iwa-chan. A constant presence in every aspect of his life. It only makes sense that he’d be the leading figure in his heart too. Oikawa feels intoxicated all over again, caught in a high he never wants to come down from. 

There’s a wolf whistle from behind them and one of Iwaizumi’s hands leaves his waist. The snickers that follow confirm Oikawa’s suspicion that Iwaizumi’s flipping the other two off. 

Oikawa pulls away just slightly, resting his forehead against Iwaizumi’s, their lips brushing slightly with every breath. “Iwa-chan?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.” 

“For what?”

Oikawa opens his eyes, only to see Iwaizumi already examining his face. “For existing.” 

Iwaizumi smiles. “Someone’s gotta keep you alive.” 

Hanamaki coughs. “Do you want us to, like, leave or–”

Oikawa steps back, but Iwaizumi’s arm around his waist keeps him from going too far. He raises a hand to hide his giddy smile. 

“It’s fine,” Iwaizumi says. Then he’s gently pushing Oikawa into a chair. “You need to eat something, dumbass.” 

Oikawa nods, shoveling sausage and eggs onto his plate, though chewing is kind of difficult with how wide he’s smiling. “Hey, why am I wearing your jacket?”

“You threw up all over yours. It’s in the wash right now,” Matsukawa says nonchalantly. 

Oikawa’s mouth drops open. “Nooooo,” he whines. 

“Maybe if you weren’t such a dumbass, that wouldn’t have happened,” Iwaizumi says, dropping into the seat next to his. 

“Iwa-chan, you meanie!”

The four of them dissolve into their familiar bickering, and Oikawa really wants to just smack his past, drunk ass because, really, how could he ever think that this would stop being their normal?

**[Bonus]**

The Seijoh VBC stares up at Hanamaki and Matsukawa, who have a giant poster board standing between them. It’s covered in designs and notes and scribbles and it’s all pressed so close together that it’s nearly impossible to decipher. Iwaizumi sits towards the back in their cluster of teammates, Oikawa’s fingers tangled in his. 

“Ok,” Hanamaki says, clapping his hands together. “Who here would pay to slap Oikawa?” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Iwaizumi can see Oikawa’s mouth drop open in offended silence. He smirks and raises his hand. Oikawa’s offence is no longer silent as he smacks his unoccupied palm against Iwaizumi’s chest, whining out a protest of “Iwa-chan!” 

“C’mon, don’t be shy,” Matsukawa says. “He’s going to be gone in a little less than two months, y’know.” 

There’s contemplative silence, and then about three quarters of the hands are shooting up to the soundtrack of Oikawa’s indignant squawks.

“Ok,” Hanamaki says. “How many of you would pay to slap Oikawa, if you could then pay to get beaten up by Iwaizumi?”

The remaining hands go up and Iwaizumi just. Just sighs. He sighs harder when Oikawa’s hand jolts into the air too. 

He’s surrounded by idiots. 

Matsukawa rubs his hands together. “Let Hanamaki and I tell you about this business idea we have.”

Hanamaki raises his hands, pausing for effect, before saying, “Get ready, boys. We’re going to make your dreams come true.”

**Author's Note:**

> \- pls can i manifest an iwa-chan to beat ppl up for me ᕙ(░ಥ╭͜ʖ╮ಥ░)━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ
> 
> \- kudos & comments are appreciated, tysm for reading <33  
> \- vibe w me on tumblr @panda-parade03


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